


Constant as a Northern Star

by ABeautifulBreakdown



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Ben and Kylo are orphans, Curses, F/F, F/M, Family Issues, Luke and Ahsoka are hippies, M/M, Magic, Parental Death, Practical Magic AU, Protective Ben Solo, Skywalker curse, Witch Curses, Witches, daddy ben, died of a broken heart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:34:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26034991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABeautifulBreakdown/pseuds/ABeautifulBreakdown
Summary: After the death of their parents, Ben and Kylo move in with their eccentric Aunt Ahsoka and Uncle Luke where they learn there is more to being a Skywalker than they ever imagined.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Constant as a Northern Star

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flybluejay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flybluejay/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little late, sorry. I wrote and rewrote and then rewrote again... It's a Practical Magic genderbent story for   
> [Flybluejay](https://twitter.com/flybluejay_) hope ya'll like it!

It’s strange standing in front of the grand old house. The one that he recognizes from his dreams. It’s three maybe ever four stories high. A castle in the eyes of a child, all points and angles with dark windows and peeling paint. A house full of secrets and mysteries just waiting to be discovered. It’s large oak door sits atop a small stair case that winds into an open veranda decorated with a handing swing and braided hers that hand in strings from the cieling. Herbs that Ben recognizes without any real way of knowing. The names of which sit on his tongue melting like soured candy as Kylo holds onto his hand, still shaking from their long car ride north. Kylo who hasn’t stopped crying since they left their home, the one that they lived in for six short years with their mother and father. A hallow place filled with nothing more the memories that they were forced to sell in order to pay for the funeral and doctors bills leaving just enough left to put away in a bank account. Enough for a future, whatever that was suppose to look like but it had been what Leia had wanted for them,

Chewie had told them everything was going to be ok, that they would be safe with this Uncle Luke and Aunt Ahsoka. Relatives that until that very morning Ben and Kylo had never known existed. Their names as foreign as the house that stands before them, imposing and dark in the dying light of day. A house that had apparently been in their family for generations, built by a great great somethingerother and handed down to a Skywalker for as long as there have been Skywalkers living. 

At some point, Kylo had asked Chewie what they were like, this aunt and uncle that they didn't know. His question had come out a stifled sob as he rubbed at his nose with the back of his hand. Chewie had been careful with his responses, keeping his attention focused on the road ahead while filling the silence with punctuated answers. Repeating himself when he seemed unsure what else to do. "They're good people, they'll keep you safe." He sounded like a broken record scratching back to the same song over and over and by now Ben found he knew the lyrics by heart. 

Ben had kept Kylo's hand held tightly in his own, the one constant he had left in his life. The one thing he refused to let go of. Ben didn't know Ahsoka or Luke and he was starting to wonder how well they knew Chewie. Their great bear of an uncle who always had their backs was now leaving them with strangers. Abandoning them when they needed him the most. 

He would show them, they didn't need Chewie, they didn't need this new Aunt and Uncle either, as long as Ben and Kylo had each other they would be ok in the end. Ben would make sure of that.

Despite his apprehension Ben was still a little curious about what sort of people Ahsoka and Luke might be. Their mother had been so very careful to keep her two lives as separate as possible. She distanced herself from her family and the so-called ‘drama’. She didn’t believe in the family curse and a fat lot of good that had done her. 

She ran away from it all, the family, the magic, the curse and all that came with it. She started a new life, shedding the name Leia Skywalker like an old skin to be born again as Leia Organa. She met Han Solo not long after starting her new life and as Chewie tells it, hated him on principle. He was loud and obnoxious and didn’t know when to quit. For two straight months, he showed up at the small coffee shop she worked at ordering himself a large black and asking for her number. For two straight months, she turned him down. 

Their father told the story with such warmth and glee that one might think he thrived on driving his wife crazy. Those people would be right of course but what did they know of curses and witches? 

What would any of them know really? Leia lived a normal life, she did normal things. She didn’t practice magic, she didn’t wish on stars, she lived a mundane existence. The most magical thing to happen to her in the years since leaving the Skywalker home was the birth of Ben and his brother Kylo. Twins so alike in appearance that everyone but their parents had a hard time telling them apart. She forgot about the house and the magic and the curse and her family who still loved her despite the fact that she’d all but forsaken them. 

She lived a simple life, as simple as any other. Bought a house, went to the park, the boys started school and everything was just as it should be. Only Leia always seemed to know who was calling or when the weather was going to change without a cloud in the sky. She knew when Kylo had a bad day or when Ben had a nightmare. She knew things the way normal people know the alphabet. Just something that she learned over time. I was never anything more than just a learned intuition. It certainly wasn’t magic. 

When the dreams started Ben tried to talk to his mother but she wouldn’t listen. He asked about the tall house and the bushes of flowers, all bright pinks and purples and beautiful bright yellows. About the cattails that lined the shoreside in the salt marshes that lead down to the sea. She told him they were just dreams. That the house and the flowers and the cool ocean breeze were nothing more the images created by his mind.

Yet his dreams painted a different picture altogether. There he would run through the old house so full of mystery and wonder, finding treasures beneath the floorboards in the attic or hiding amongst the herbs hanging to dry in the old back room. They would swing like pendulums, braided ropes of sweetgrass and clumped bows of fennel, lavender and dill. The air around him thick and sour but earth sweet too. He dreamt of a man with a beard and kind blue eyes that look like a morning storm. The kind the never lasts and always breaks around noon. Together they would sit and have tea eating buttery scones and talking about things the way old friends do.

He never told Ben his name but Ben always knew that he was safe. The same way his heart knew that his mother would always love him. The old man with no name taught him things like the uses for this and that. How black stones and salt kept evil at bay, while rosemary in tea was good to help improve concentration, and mint could help with an upset stomach just as well as ginger. 

Practical things which he used in secret, keeping the knowledge tucked away and close to his heart. His mother would have a fit if she knew the way Ben tucked little black rocks into the pockets of his father's work jackets or lined their windows with salt whenever he or Kylo had a bad dream. It was a part of his life that he never really quite understood. Like pieces of a puzzle that never quite seemed to fit as though someone was trying to change the picture altogether. Kylo would often tell him he was being silly, teasing Ben as he dug for little stones in the garden. He’d follow behind Ben and knock them out of his hands so they would fall to the earth and get lost in the grass.

Kylo never did like things that he couldn’t understand and Ben so would never tell him about the man or the knowledge. They would fight and argue as little boys do only to be pulled apart by their mother in an exasperated huff. Still, they shared a room, sometimes even a bed when the nights were black and the moon disappeared. Kylo was never as brave as he let on when the lights were out though those were the hours that Ben loved the best. When the stars would twinkle in the sky and the moon would whisper it’s secrets. Secrets Ben would take with him to the grave. Like how Mrs. Miller down the road had a bad habit of stealing other people’s newspapers or how Mr. Landry had a female friend that Mrs. Landry knew nothing about. 

Sometimes he’d ask Kylo what he heard in the night and Kylo would simply grumble about crickets and flop an arm across Ben’s chest until they were cured together like little pretzel children. Kylo didn’t know about the rocks or the salt. He didn’t know about the dreams or the voices either or how sometimes Ben knew things like mom often did. No one knew but the man and he was Ben's greatest secret of all. A soft friendly voice that told Ben to keep them safe. That warned against accidents and mishaps that happen and pressed him to line pockets with black pebbles and rosemary when he could get his hands on it. 

By the time his mother caught on to his game, it was far too late. 

It was a freak accident they said. The hoist had been checked and double-checked before Han slid under the car. He was diligent about safety, their father, always pressing the importance of respecting the machinery. Talking about it as though it had a life and soul of its own. Respect, he told his boys would get them far in life. Respect for others, but also respect for the strength and integrity of the machines they might work with. From cars to toasters one needed to appreciate the way things worked. 

Han had been working on his old Falcon that day while Kylo and Ben sat at home with their mother eating lunch. Leia was busy going over a proposal for a local community project, talking to herself as she paced in the kitchen repeating the words over and over until they were meaningless and hallow. She did this a lot, talked things through without having an actual conversation. Repeating words too large for either Ben or Kylo to truly understand. Instead, they ate their alphaghetti, spelling out words on their spoons they knew would get them in trouble. 

It was a game of sorts, giggling to themselves as Leia paced, her paperwork in hand as she repeated a phrase over and over as though sounding out a puzzle. One minute she was repeating a sentence to herself quietly the next she was frozen as still as a statue in the middle of their small kitchen, hushing the boys as Kylo spelt out ‘arse’ with his noodles. 

There was something strange in the air, a thickness that made Ben’s skin prickle, his tongue thick and heavy in his mouth. He’d been about to ask his mother what was wrong when he heard it. The gentle chirp of a cricket that managed to trap itself indoors. Kylo jumped up thrilled for the chase while their mother's eyes went wide, her skin as pale as milk. 

“Sit!” she demanded, repeating the word over and over as though she wasn’t sure they could hear her, “sit, sit, sit.” It came as a plea her eyes searching the ground. Ben pulled Kylo back into his chair and they watched their mother move around the furniture like a wraith on the hunt. “No, no, no,” she muttered softly to herself. Her papers fluttering to the floor as she began tearing the kitchen apart.

The cupboards were first, doors were thrown wide, contents thrown on the floor. Plates and cups and bowls smashed to bits as she pulled them out and threw them to the ground. Her muttering growing louder, more insistent, “no, no, no,” she cried, her eyes lined with tears that seemed too afraid to fall, “I thought, I thought.” she whimpered frantically, pulling the fridge away from the wall, “Please not now, not him,” The table scraped across the floor causing Kylo to start, reaching out for Ben’s hand as they watched their mother whirl through the kitchen like a hurricane. 

“I thought we were safe,” she practically wailed, her voice breaking into patterned gibberish about curses and magic.

It made Ben think about his father at work and the black stone from the garden tucked into his pocket. The one Ben had put there before their father left for work that morning. Han had kissed them each on the head and made them swear to be good, promising ice cream and a walk to the park as their reward. A perfect sunny Saturday spent with his family after he put in a few good hours on his old beat-up car. 

Kylo had asked if he could go too but their father told him it wasn’t safe work for little boys. The car would be on the hoist and Han couldn’t be safe if he was worried about them. He was safe, he was always safe. Why then did their mother look so panicked? 

Ben saw it first, not cricket at all but a large black beetle. He pointed and shouted catching his mother's attention just in time as the tiny thing scuttled under the party door and out of sight. Leia turned fast and was gone in an instant, the small kitchen filled with the muffled cursing and crashing of a woman gone mad. Then, as though a switch at been flipped there was nothing at all. Silence, errie and thick settled onto the room and when their mother returned Ben's heart plummeted into his stomach. She looks defeated, utterly dishevelled and worn. Her hair was a mess, her tightly worn bun falling in loose strands while her crown sat beneath a halo of flour and spices. Her cheeks were marred with dark cinnamon or maybe it was dirty. It was too difficult to tell. Her lovely clean button-down was dirty and pulled from her now stained white slacks. She looked like she'd just fought in some epic kitchen war and for a moment Ben wondered if that wasn't far from the truth.

She was still, her spine straight, but her hands seemed to flutter at her sides like the wings of a bird. They tap, tap, tapped against her leg with a jittery insistence that seemed to build and built until it erupted into a quiet stream of steady tears. Her dark lashes lined with fury and pain as she started from Ben to Kylo and then back again.

When her eyes finally stopped, the gaze was no longer the comforting and loving warm hazel that Ben knew so well and that was the moment he realized that something was wrong. “Mom…” he tried but she shushed him quickly, her eyes flickering towards the telephone that hangs on the wall. The one with the long cord that allowed her to move around the kitchen with miraculous ease as she talked to her friends about whatever it was adults talked about. 

“Mommy,” Kylo whined, earning them each a more poignant shush as though she were waiting for something to finally happen. 

After a moment or two, the silence stretched into something almost painful. While the beetles chirping had stopped the tension Leia's body left her shattered and aware, ready to react, ready to run, waiting for what came next. Whatever it was Ben was sure he would recognize it the moment it happened. A knock at the door, a car pulling up outside, something, anything.

After a moment or two Ben started to shift in his seat, the only sound in the room that of their mothers breathing. Small steady gasps of air that made her sound like a wounded animal, a soft whine at the back of her throat that erupted into a sob the moment the phone rang. That was it, the thing and suddenly everything was being pulled tight together. 

“Han?” he heard his mother choke out, but he struggled to listen, slipping to the edge of his seat. He wanted to stand but was afraid to do so for fear of cutting his feet on the broken glass that decorated the floor. So, instead watched his mother carefully, a hand over her mouth as her body tumbled back colliding with the wall. In a series of slow movements, she made her way to the floor, her body wracked with a sorrow that became a palpable thing. Nothing was alright. Nothing would ever be ok ever again. 

“What’s happening?” Kylo whimpered in Ben’s ear giving his hand a soft tug as he watched their mother sob listless, silent tears while the voice on the end of the phone droned on and on. 

Hours later their mother's friend Amilyn Holdo had the house cleaned up and was ushering the boys to bed. The same bed because Kylo couldn’t stop crying. Their father was dead, crushed by his own car. Their mother was beside herself with grief. The next few days happened so fast that Ben scarcely remembers them but there are pieces that will be forever etched in his mind. His mother’s vacant expression, the way their father’s best friend lingered by the doorway to the funeral home as though he were afraid to get too close to the casket. Closed, because they said it was too hard to make Han look presentable. Whatever that meant.

The days that followed were worse than the ones that came before. Leia had slipped into what Ben would later learn was a state of deep depression. She would lie in bed for hours on end staring at the wall trough eyes blank and unseeing. She wouldn’t eat and barely moved save for the odd trip to the bathroom leaving Kylo and Ben to fend for themselves. 

Even Auntie Amilyn and Auntie Hera couldn’t get her to move. Instead, the focused on Kylo and Ben, getting them ready for school in the mornings and taking them to the park to get them out of the house. Sometimes they would even pick them up from school and treat them to ice-cream. Always one with the boys while the other remained behind at the house with Leia. They made sure the fridge was always stocked and everyone was cared for until finally Amilyn became a permanent fixture in their house. She took up residence in the small guest room down the hall and became the person Ben and Kylo turned to whenever they needed a hug or a hand to hold. 

There were hushed whispers of how she’d simply given up. Words of concern drawn out over glasses of wine sipped when the adults thought that little ears wouldn’t hear. Ben tried to hide his stones and lay his salt but nothing seemed to help. Leia only got worse.

Doctors came and went, “broken-hearted poor dear,” they muttered as the boys sat on the stairs but no one told them what was going on. Her skin was pale and waxen, her eyes vacant and dull. She didn’t speak, didn’t eat and slowly their mother faded away. 

Died of a broken heart

That’s how Ben and Kylo find themselves on the doorstep of the house from Ben’s dreams. The man with the beard opens the door, beside him a tall woman with her dark greying hair pulled back in thick strands that reminded Ben of spaghetti. 

“Hello boys,” The man says kindly, opening his arms in warm invitation. Ben takes a step forward but Kylo tugs him back, staying close to Chewie as the large man hefts their bags onto his shoulders. 

“Good seeing you again Luke,” their Uncle Chewie rumbles adjusting the bags before extending a large hand Luke’s direction. 

“Charles,” Luke offers warmly, “how about we move inside, Ahsoka just put on a pot for hot chocolate and I think there might be something a bit stronger,” nodding to Chewie Luke takes a step back ushering the group through the large old oak doors. 

The house smells like earth and cabbage but something strangely sweet too, like chocolate cakes and sunshine. It’s the oddest thing Ben has ever experienced but at the same time, it sort of feels like home. Kylo squeezes his hand and tugs him close as they move through hallways lined with shelves filled with books and knick-knacks. Not a space has gone unused, items piled two and three tall teetering over into the next pile and the pile after that. Chewie moves through the house like a bear on rollerskates careful not to knock into anything as he goes. His shoulders hunched he loops beneath a pile of sticks tied together with twine, batting at it as he shimmies between two particularly full bookshelves. 

“Just leave their stuff at the bottom of the stairs Charles,” Luke calls from ahead causing Kylo to giggle. 

“Charles?” the little boy asks, turning to look up at their pseudo uncle as he drops the boy's bags and rubs the back of his neck with his now freed hand. 

“S’my name isn’t it?” Chewie says with a grin, pointing ahead to the kitchen as he urges the boys to follow through. 

“We call you Chewie though?” Kylo presses and Ben can’t help but be a little embarrassed for his brother who is clearly finding the concept of nicknames to be hard to wrap his head around. 

“It’s his nickname dummy,” Ben gripes, tugging Kylo through the strange doorway and into the most incredible kitchen Ben has ever seen. The cabinets are all white with glass doors, filled with stacks upon stacks of mismatched plates and dinner wear. The fridge is large and hums in the corner a few feet away from the stove that houses a kettle slowly puffing smoke. 

It smells like chocolate in here, The space broad and full of wonderous things. Counters lined with wrapped herbs and cutting boards like the ones from Ben’s dreams. The house is exactly as he saw it in his mind.

Luke gives him a knowing sort of grin as he pulls out a pair of chairs from the table. It's a large dark wooden slab of wood held up by a runner in the middle and thick posts on the ends. “Sit boys, I’ll get you something warm.” He tells them sweetly busying himself around the kitchen. He makes very little noise as he moves, his feet swift across the floor as the woman, Ahsoka, sits with a huff, “You could help you know,” 

“Yeah, but you got it. I’m old and tired, my bones are sore,” She offers Ben a wink, her blue-grey eyes shimmering against the ochre tone of her skin. They don’t look related, in fact, Ahsoka looks nothing like Luke or their mother in the slightest begging the question of how exactly she came to be their aunt. 

Ben watches as Luke pulls cups down from one of the many cupboards memorizing where everything seems to go, “Don’t give me that foolishness,” Luke gripes over the burbling of hot water poured into a cup. Water which Ben sees is actually boiled milk filling their cups until chocolate powderer floats on the top almost too full to drink. “Boys, if you learn anything from Ahsoka, let it be how _not_ to act.” 

“Oh pull the stick out of your ass Luke,” the older woman chimes leaning against the table to get a better look at Kylo and Ben, “You two really are bloody identical.” 

“We’re not!” Kylo huffs, “Ben has a mole on the left of his mouth and I have one on my chin.”

Ahsoka laughs, loud and bright and full of joy. It’s a sound Ben finds he enjoys greatly, “Is that so little cat?” 

“I’m not a cat—“

“Oh but what sharp claws you have,” she purrs to Kylo who’s lip trembles in irritation. His eyes, still red-rimmed, narrow dangerously towards the woman with the laughter like fairy light, grumbling about other things she’s just too stupid to tell. 

Chewie gives him a clip on the back of the head for good measure while Luke stifles a laugh in his shoulder disguising it as a sneeze as he slides two cups of coco across the table, “it hot,” he warns before turning to offer Chewie a tumbler full of amber liquid, “you might as well crash here tonight, you look like you need this.” 

When Chewie makes to argue it’s Ahsoka who quiets him with a hand on the shoulder, “It’s a three and a half hour drive and there’s rain on the way—“

“But the sky is clear,” Kylo argues again, 

“Ahhh little whiskers,” the old woman says as she draws to her feet, “Soon you’ll learn to see with eyes unclouded.”

“Leia didn’t really—“

“Leia ignored the warnings and look where that got her,” Ahsoka quips quickly, “In this house, they learn what it is to be a Skywalker!”

“We’re Solo’s,” Ben hears himself say weakly knowing it’s foolish before the words even fall from his lips. 

“Your father was a Solo,” Luke says but not unkindly, sipping on a glass full of liquid similar to the one he handed to Chewie, “Your mother was a Skywalker.”

“Organa,” Kylo tries, dropping Ben’s hand as he reaches for his coco, “Our mother was an Organa.”

Ahsoka’s scoff is something loud and bitter causing Chewie to glare at her over the mouth of his glass, “A names, a names, a name as far as I’m concerned. Your mother was Luke’s twin. Luke was born a Skywalker, their father was a Skywalker. Your mother may have called herself an Organa but there’s Skywalker blood in your veins as much as there is his.” 

“But not yours,” Ben wants to crawl under the table and disappear for Kylo’s brazen pushing of this poor woman, “You said his, nor ours which means you aren’t a Skywalker then.” 

“Kylo!” 

“No let him speak his peace Charles, he wants to know, that’s good. Questions are good little whiskers—“

“Don’t call me—“

Ahsoka’s grin is almost feral as she calls him “Whiskers,” once more and pushes back in her seat, one arm draped over the back casually, “No, not by blood, but that makes me no less Skywalker than you, believe me. I’m a foundling. Your grandfather took me in. Your grandparents raised me before they had your mother and uncle.” 

Kylo opens his mouth to speak again but Ben elbows him harshly hissing for him to keep his mouth shut. The adults watch in mute amusement as the conversation turns to things far more pleasant. Or as pleasant as the relocation of two orphaned boys might be. Luke explains to them about school. Where it is, where the bus will come and get them. What time it starts and when it ends. He explains the rules, simple things, nothing like when they lived under their parent’s roof. 

After some time when the coco is cold and the adult’s drinks are empty, Luke gives them the tour. He follows behind taking it all in as Kylo grabs for his hand again. They walk pressed together peering in rooms dappled in moonlight, dust motes floating in the air. The place is three floors with a strange attic room located atop a twisting staircase. Their room if they want it that way. There are plenty of others but this one is the biggest affording them more space for toys and whatever other things that children might need. The way Ahsoka says it makes Ben wonder if she even knows what those things are. 

They break through the door and into a wide space. Creeking floors and stained glass windows, two small beds and an assortment of old trunks and trinkets. It’s just like from his dreams. The same floorboards squeak when he walks on them making him double back so he can press his foot down carefully, testing them one by one under the curious eye of his Uncle Luke. 

Kylo to his credit lets go of Ben’s hand wandering further into the space eyes wide and wary. He doesn’t want to sleep up here Ben knows in an instant. He doesn't want to be here at all but Ben knows he can convince him. Watching as Kylo turns on the spot before running over towards a window propped open allowing a cool breeze the flutter on through. 

From a trunk on the floor staggers a fat looking slipper. Not a slipper Ben realizes but a haggard-looking old Tom. His ear is torn in one place and he’s missing an eye. He’s plump, well-fed and winds his way between Kylo’s legs like he’s marking the boy as his own. 

Luke makes a soft sound, something half between irritation and relief, “There’s where you went you foul old thing,” he picks the cat up turning him so the beast is lying flat on his back across Luke’s arms like a baby, “This is Odin,” he offers Kylo the cat’s plump belly, “We don’t know how old he is—“

“Or how he’s still alive for that matter—“ Ahsoka mumbles under her breath glaring at the old beast grudgingly. 

“He’s one of the cats that hang around here,” The cat in question swats playfully at Kylo’s face as the boy reaches out to scratch the creatures rounded belly, “He seems to like you Kylo, will you take care of him for me?” Luke dumps the tubby feline into Kylo’s arms as Chewie places their bags down, one each bed respectively. Kylo is too busy fawning over the cat to realize and Ben doesn’t have the heart to tell him the decision has been made. They’ll push their beds together to make one big mattress and sleep curled up the way they use to at home. If Kylo really doesn’t want this attic full of secrets then Ben will take it for himself, more for him to uncover. 

Soon the adults and ushering them to bed under the guise of a long day and much to do when the sunrises in the morning. They say their goodnights and descend the stairs on quiet feet disappearing into the kitchen for a nightcap. Kylo is sitting on his new bed with Odin in his lap while Ben pokes around their new surroundings. Everything is exactly as it had been in his dreams. The rug, the antique victrola that Ben knows will not work, even the color of the stained glass and how it looks in the moonlight.

“I don’t like it here,” Kylo mutters pressing his face into his new friend’s neck, nuzzling the old creature’s soft fur against his nose. 

“It’ll be ok,” Ben tries to sound confident but in truth, he doesn’t quite know. There are half-truths and pieces of their lives that have been missing until this point. A history their mother hid them from and Ben quite frankly can’t wait until he learns more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hello on [The Twitter](https://twitter.com/rebelscumreylo)


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